


A Spot of Mischief

by Sk3tch



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Author has never been to the Wizarding World, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Canon-typical shenanigans, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley causing mischief, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Florida, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Proper Magic, Summer Vacation, Taking a Holiday, The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, Universal Studios, but yearns for that sweet sweet butterbeer, lots of sappy love in this one folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sk3tch/pseuds/Sk3tch
Summary: Based off the prompt: Crowley makes all of the wands at Ollivander's WORK for an hour while taking a holiday.Ignoring the people inside for a moment, the shop was an utter disaster. There were scrolls and parchments flying through the air, as well as small boxes tumbling and colliding as they flew from shelf to shelf. A small, green fire was growing in the corner, and Aziraphale could see several scorch marks along the walls. He would have lingered on the mess longer, but loud shouts drew his attention away from the destruction and he let his focus veer toward those instead.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20
Collections: An Eventful Surprise





	A Spot of Mischief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bisasterdi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisasterdi/gifts).



> _I Solemnly Swear that I am up to no good._  
>  Surpriseeee!!! This is a gift to the truly wonderful Bisasterdi! For all the work she's done, and how included and welcome she makes everyone feel to the Good Omens Fandom. Thank you for all you do. 
> 
> Also a big, humongous shout out to [EveningStarcatcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningStarcatcher) for betaing! She helped make sure this fic was in tip-top condition! Her suggestions and encouragement helped me more than she could ever know, and I am eternally grateful. Any mistakes left are all my own. Thank you Star!

Aziraphale huffed, making his way down modern cobblestone and trying not to pay too much heed to the downright dreadful British accents being attempted by the other park visitors. He shook his head sadly, at a particularly bad exclamation of there being a troll in a dungeon, and kept moving.

Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure how he and Crowley had ended up in this little venture. Or rather, he supposed he technically did, but the details were fuzzy.

About a fortnight ago, he and Crowley had been having a delightful time at Jasmine cottage with Anathema and Newt, when Adam and his friends had swung by. They all caught up and had spent the rest of the afternoon talking about summer holidays over biscuits and tea. Truthfully, Aziraphale might have only been half listening to the group, thinking about how he really must get the recipe for those biscuits from Newt, when, in what seemed a blink of an eye, Aziraphale was suddenly aware of the fact they had made plans for a spontaneous holiday abroad. 

Anathema’s family had a house right on the coast, not far from a likeable tourist attraction. She even offered to pay for the whole trip, since the apocalypse had been averted and they could surely all use a little vacation. The idea of going on ‘rides’ hadn’t sounded like something Aziraphale would like, but the mention of a recreation of a magical town from a popular book series everyone else seemed to love, did sound enchanting. Even if he hadn’t yet read it himself.

_“Really angel! S’been out ages, even I’ve re- well, I’ve seen the movies. You should probably hop to it if you want to be able to know what’s going on,”_ Crowley had said the night before they left, and Aziraphale had considered picking up the first of the series that Adam had put in his shop for a quick read through that night, but ultimately didn’t. Instead he elected to get lost in his packing for the trip. Aziraphale wondered if he had read it, if he might have been more prepared for what would come.

When they met the children and their parents at the airport, they were treated as if they were old friends, and not two middle aged men who they were meeting for the first time. He suspected Adam had something to do with that. Aziraphale didn’t have much time to dwell on it however, and soon enough they were walking out of a similar airport on the other side of the pond. They got to the house in record time, although Crowley denied any demonic interventions, and were settled quickly.

Aziraphale, Crowley, and the children had all gotten an early start the following day, unaffected by the jet lag that haunted Anathema and Newt, and made plans to meet up with the other two for lunch. When Crowley’s mobile rang around noon, Aziraphale had figured it was them asking for their location to meet up. What he had not been expecting was a request for a little supernatural help; but, apparently Newt had somehow caused several park alarm systems to go off when he swiped his mobile phone for their entrance and the pair were about to be detained.

It was quickly decided the best plan would be for Aziraphale to go and help them, while everyone else stayed behind and took a break from their exploring. At the time, it seemed like the most logical answer, but the further Aziraphale went from the group, the more worried he became.

His senses told him he shouldn’t have done it, but time was of the essence. He had given Crowley a look before leaving, one that he knew Crowley could read as Aziraphale saying he better not do anything untoward in Aziraphale’s absence, and the serpent had nodded back in agreement with a bemused shrug. Aziraphale thought the understanding had been sure-enough.

The matter took less than two shakes, and afterwards Anathema gave him a hug and told him they’d catch up in a bit, after resituating their backpacks. He nodded gratefully and took off with haste. Aziraphale knew no harm would come to the children, but he also knew Crowley. The demon was a schemer, and left to his own devices along with the enabling words of children who feared nothing... the situation was absolutely a recipe for trouble.

Aziraphale turned the corner, and almost immediately was bumped into by a crowd of raucous park goers headed in the opposite direction. He wouldn’t have given it much thought beyond acknowledging the general lapse of manners humanity had allowed in the last century or so to not apologize after forcibly colliding with someone even by accident, if it weren’t for the air of frenzied discord that surrounded them. That did warrant more than a bit of concerning thought.

Or rather, several thoughts, all of which had Aziraphale frowning.

Craning his neck in the direction the terrified people came from, he felt himself sigh. The spot in front of the shop where Crowley and their charges were supposed to be waiting, was now empty.

Although, thinking that them not being outside was the worst of it, might have been a rash thought he decided, as a curious mixture of sounds and lights could be observed through the windows and open door of the building marked _Ollivander’s_.

Yes, he realized with dawning mortification, definitely rash. An understatement really. The only thing Aziraphale knew when he walked into the little shop was that compared to everything he had ever seen in his time, his whole existence, he had never encountered chaos quite like this and that was saying a lot. Aziraphale had been around for the tower of Babel, the fall of the roman empire, even the contrivance of the motorized vehicle, and he had never seen anything this unbridled.

Ignoring the people inside for a moment, the shop was an utter disaster. There were scrolls and parchments flying through the air, as well as small boxes tumbling and colliding as they flew from shelf to shelf. A small, green fire was growing in the corner, and Aziraphale could see several scorch marks along the walls. He would have lingered on the mess longer, but loud shouts drew his attention away from the destruction and he let his focus veer toward those instead.

“ _Stupefy!”_

_“Expelliarmus!_ ”

On one side of the shop, Adam and Pepper appeared to be in a duel. Aziraphale wasn’t aware that children knew how to duel, but their faces, voices, and even stances suggested otherwise. Combined with all of that, the streaks of brilliant light that sprang from the wands in their hands and forced both of them to counter their footwork and balance to maintain their position, was a solid indication that this was a duel of sorts. It reminded him very much of fencing.

“ _Protego!”_

_“Impedimenta!_ ”

Shaking his head, Aziraphale swept his gaze to the back of the shop next, anxious to catalog the rest of the group. Near a wall that was not only burned, but also oozing, he found another fourth of the Them. Brian was jerkily levitating off the ground, his wand pointed downward at the floor, with every flick of his wrist sending him bouncing anew when the tip of it wobbled off-center. 

But still he had not seen everything.

Fully aware of how wide his mouth was hanging open, Aziraphale didn’t even try to stifle the gasp when he turned, eyes falling on what appeared to be a fully frozen-in-form Wensleydale near the foot of the staircase. The only indication the boy was aware of his surroundings, the way his eyes darted back and forth between his other friends, Aziraphale, and someone behind Aziraphale whom he had not yet set his eyes on, but knew unequivocally to be the source of all this.

_“Tarantallegra!”_

_“Petrificus Totalus!”_

Turning slowly to complete his panoramic view of the establishment’s interior, hoping he might wake up from whatever dream this was, Aziraphale frowned when reality refused to comply. In fact, Aziraphale only became that much more aware of just how muddled the place was when his eyes found his gleeful, wide-smiling demon perching against a rustic broom hovering at the perfect height for his lanky frame to lean his elbows on.

Crowley was laughing harder than Aziraphale had seen him do in some time; teeth shining in the dim lights, lit up from the sparks shooting out of the wands Adam and Pepper were wielding. 

“Hullo Aziraphale!” Crowley swung his head around with what Aziraphale knew to be his ‘pleased with his decisions’ face, and waited for the angel to greet him in kind. As time dragged on and Aziraphale did not, the grin wavered with uncertainty before ultimately dissolving, receding from Crowley’s features as he realized Aziraphale was not amused.

So help him, Aziraphale huffed out a breath as something exploded behind him, Crowley was lucky Aziraphale loved him unconditionally.

“Darling,” he said, taking a soberingly slow, measured step toward Crowley who wisely snapped the broom away to clear the space between them, “would you care to tell me what’s going on?” Azirphale watched as Crowley’s throat bobbed, before he nodded without any true rhythm, sputtering words like a boiling kettle threw off whistling steam.

“Hmmk, well, y’see... The kids, they just wouldn’t stop going on about the wands and real magic and, y’know, on and on? Real annoying like. Ssso I... might have... _made‘emrealforabit_?”

“You WHAT?” 

His angelic voice cut through the noise and din of the place and an almost unnatural quiet fell in the shop. At least, for a second or so until the silence was broken by a large crash from overhead. Pepper and Adam’s duel must have come to a head. 

From the corner of his eye, Aziraphale noted how twin arcs flashed up, bursting through the ceiling and damaging the light fixture. Everyone’s eyes shot up and, for the record, Aziraphale sighed deeply before the chandelier loosened completely from its mooring and dropped down on top of him. He clicked his tongue and let his shoulders sag, this was not how he had imagined the day would turn out. He _had_ been looking forward to trying some ‘buttered beer’, but he supposed sometimes that’s just how things went.

Resigned, Aziraphale closed his eyes and felt the demonic command for time to stop flow around him in almost the same second. He took a moment to count his breaths to ten, to relieve tension Anathema had suggested once, before Aziraphale opened his eyes to see the would-be of damage. 

Glancing up, he saw the wax from the candles that had, as of however many minutes ago, become real wax instead of a material made to look like it, hanging in fallen drops two inches above his head and shoulders. Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed at a single drop in particular that had come a finger’s width away from staining his favorite article of clothing. He rolled his head to look at Crowley, who now had the decency to look chagrined. 

“So… I can explain.”

“Yes, I do believe that would be for the best.”

Crowley opened his mouth, presumably to explain his actions and give a good excuse, several times, before he sighed and hung his head. He mumbled something under his breath and Aziraphale shook his head with a frown.

“I’m afraid I didn’t catch that Crowley.” His husband huffed, leaning back on a shelf and crossed his arms.

“I said ‘m sorry, okay? Got a touch carried away is all, would’ve had it under control in a bit.” He looked away from Aziraphale, and the angel had the distinct feeling Crowley sensed how upset Aziraphale truly was with him, and was feeling particularly uneasy at having lost his favor. 

For one thing, he didn’t have his typical, easy slouch, instead standing unsettlingly upright. Aziraphale looked closely and saw the tips of Crowley’s fingers were white from the grip he was using to hold his arms together, and he was fidgeting at a lapel with his thumb. Crowley went to speak again, but pressed his lips together instead, cutting off his own words. Curious, Aziraphale let his demon stew in the silence for a beat, before his overwhelming fondness won out over his exasperation.

“Oh my dear,” Aziraphale finally said with a soft tone that had Crowley redirecting his gaze, his stiff posture easing minutely, “you must know I could never stay mad at you. Not for long anyway. . Even if your means are not what I would consider entirely savory, I could never bemoan the way you are with children. Nor would I want to.” Aziraphale smiled as a blush rose on Crowley’s cheeks; how he looked at the floor, his shoes, anywhere but at Aziraphale.

But then, Crowley didn’t have to look at Aziraphale to see the truth of his words, did he? Aziraphale glanced around them again, eyes lingering over the smiles that were frozen on each of the young whippersnappers in the shop. Although they had all turned in his direction when Aziraphale had let loose a bit of his holy voice, they were still obviously having the best time of their young lives. Even the child who had been frozen in place before the time altering snap, mouth laughing and lines formed around his eyes from where he had been caught in his joy. Happiness and love filled this space just as much as the chaos and dishevelment, and Crowley was the cause of both. 

Crowley had always had a soft spot in his heart for children, something the angel found entirely endearing. Aziraphale had seen it the day of the flood, had seen it when they each took their disguises to become unlikely godfathers, and he had seen it countless times since. Out in public, or talking about stories he read on his mobile, it was hard to miss. 

And for as much evil as Crowley said he was sowing in them by indulging their fantasies of endless fun and disrespect for actual figures of authority, Aziraphale knew that was not quite the truth. He liked kids. Liked how they questioned everything, and never seemed to lose that curious nature. 

Aziraphale liked to think Crowley saw a bit of his old self in their faces when they tried to make their sense of the universe. And when Crowley did miracles to make them happy, it was like a bit of therapy for the soul, wasn’t it? It made Aziraphale smile. Whether Crowley would ever admit this to be the truth out loud, Aziraphale didn’t know, but there was no need for him to. Aziraphale already knew the truth.

“Yeah, well,” Crowley growled in deference, “they asked, and you’d gone, been gone for _ages_ it felt, and I was all by myself and they just kept… looking at me like that, y’know, how they look at you? Figured a bit of mischief might be on. More for me than them, really. Just a demon doing his deeds ‘n all that.” Aziraphale shook his head, strolling out from under the danger suspended time had kept him from enduring, and placed a hand over Crowley’s cheek. 

“Yes my love, _very_ devious of you.” Aziraphale kissed him gently, letting their noses bump and foreheads touch, savoring the moment as Crowley leaned into their touch, slowly wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s waist for a moment before Aziraphale broke them apart and cleared his throat.

“That said, if this place isn’t tip-top shape again when everything starts up and my coat isn’t spotless from dust, debris, and or otherwise... dare I say I am going to be quite cross with you for some time.” Crowley audibly gulped, and Aziraphale watched the yellow of his eyes bleed to the corners over the rims of his glasses. 

Without so much as a by your leave, the shop righted itself around them, almost before Crowley had even snapped. Aziraphale let out a relieved sigh. The stacks of books and neatly piled boxes all scattered asunder had set something off in him that made his heart ache. Seeing this space so similar to his own precious home in such a maddening state had given him surrogate grief. Now, he breathed easily, watching the fires put themselves out, the books restack, and the general disarray of the shop neatly fold itself into a more organized manner.

He looked around, surveying the shop. Everything appeared to be the way it should be and Aziraphale hummed. He flashed a lopsided smile at Crowley, who half-heartedly shrugged off Aziraphale’s admiration. The demon snapped his fingers again, and time unfroze.

Sound came back in sharp relief, and the children’s laughter liberated the shop from its moment of quietness. It trailed off when they realized how the shop had gone back to normal, but picked up after a moment when they started waving their wands again, back at their playing. 

The duelists shouted out their spells and incantations, Brian was hopping to give himself a bit of an airy head start, and Wensleydale was staring down the point of his wand, inspecting it carefully with one eye scrunched tightly shut. But, try as they might, none of their tactics seemed to make the wands do as they had been.

They didn’t appear upset, however, as they all eventually shrugged and turned to Adam to see what they ought do next. He opened his mouth to say something but then dropped a hand to his stomach, smiling devilishly before uttering a single word that rallied his troops.

“ _Sweets!_ ” 

They stormed out with haste after that, going on about chocolate frogs and other items, leaving the _Ollivander’s_ shop workers utterly befuddled as they finally worked up the courage to stick their heads out from behind the counter, unsure what they were going to find. To Aziraphale’s surprise and delight, he noted that none of the children left before they each called out a chorus of thank you’s to Crowley.

Aziraphale watched as Crowley’s ears tinged at the gratitude, the same way he reacted when Aziraphale praised his good deeds, or called him kind. It was a rather fetching look that Aziraphale never tired of seeing. Unable to restrain himself, he gave Crowley a short peck on the cheek before lacing their fingers together and pulling him along. Although Crowley was the cause of this last bit of mischief, Aziraphale knew the children didn’t necessarily need either supernatural being around to make trouble.

“We best be off dearest, before they find whatever a ‘fizzing whizzbee’ is and set it loose.” 

Crowley merely shook his head and let himself be tugged along, not even trying to hide the lovesick smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Mischief Managed_  
> [Bisasterdi,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisasterdi/pseuds/bisasterdi) I hope this fic finds you well and gives you a smile. You deserve all of the good things. Thank you again for being you! <3
> 
> And if anyone one wants to chat, hit me up on the [tumbles!](https://sk3tchid.tumblr.com/) My inbox is always open. :)


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